


Spirit Assassin Drabbles

by haku23



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-28 22:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11427513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haku23/pseuds/haku23
Summary: A collection of all the short fics I do for the pairing that aren't long enough to be fics in their own right.





	1. Request-When Did We Get a Cat?

**Author's Note:**

> A request from my friend on tumblr for a request meme "when did we get a cat?"

Beside Baze’s presence he hears a quiet, steady pat of something against the bed. He reaches out and across and yanks is hand back-he doesn’t remember any part of Baze being quite so hairy. Or rather, furry.

“Baze,” he whispers as he rolls away from the thing and onto the floor. Who knows what kind of creature has gotten into their room and while Chirrut gladly takes care of any insects-Baze won’t admit he’s afraid but Chirrut can taste it in the air-he leaves anything larger to him.

“Hm? What? What’s wrong?” he asks. His voice is still rough and slow from sleep but that doesn’t mean anything for the rest of him. The bed creaks. The patting sound speeds up.

“There’s something on the bed with you.”

He hears him turn and then turn back with a sigh, “you were dreaming, there’s nothing there.”

“But I still hear it,” he furrows his brow as he concentrates but he can’t discern what the thing is, just that it’s there. He trusts Baze, of course, and so he climbs back into the bed though his hands still seek the creature.

“Let me check your ears,” Baze says before his hands are on Chirrut’s jaw and turning his head one way and then another. He feels urgent somehow but not scared even as he moves past Chirrut and comes back, “I’m just using a light.”

“My ears work perfectly well.”

Baze grunts and brushes his thumb over the shell of his ear, “does anything hurt?”

“Oh please, I told you-“

“There’s something here,” Baze interrupts and Chirrut dodges his attempted attack, “what?”

“I know you’re going to stick your wet finger in my ear, Baze Malbus, you’ve tried this for 30 years and I’m not going to let it work now.”

He chuckles and Chirrut hears him wipe his hand on the sheets, “checking the other one.”

It’s not a surprise to him that he’s pronounced his usual-perfectly healthy, a perfect nuisance-but he still hears the sound though it’s gone back to its previous slow and steady rhythm. Still. Best not to worry Baze.

“Well, since we’re both already awake,” he murmurs and turns towards Baze. His hands press into the bed on either side of him and he feels Baze’s smile and subsequent alarm. “What?”

“Nothing. No time,” he says and Chirrut narrows his eyes. That’s a new one, or at least new in its vagueness.

“Something is wrong. What is it?”

“Nothing,” Baze says. He tries for gruffness but he rarely succeeds where Chirrut is concerned.

It’s all right; he’s woken enough that he knows what the sound is. Or at least, he knows what it might be.

“Baze, when did we get a cat?” he asks. The silence is answer enough that he’s right, but Baze wouldn’t hide something so insignificant from him-if he wanted a cat they would get one. He sets his hand on his chest and feels his sigh build in his chest like ripples in a puddle.

“There is no cat.”

“Then what-“

 He sighs again, “that son of a-I was sold faulty merchandise.”

“Faulty merchandise. Why are you being so vague? You know if you spent too much money on something I’ll still love you-it’ll be begrudging at first, but-“

“No,” he says and finally huffs out a laugh, “there is no cat. I have.”

Baze’s hand takes his and brings it to the top of his head where there are. Ears. Animal ears. They’re soft and twitch when Chirrut rubs them between his finger and thumb.

“Well the vows did say in both wellness and illness.”

“Shut up, I look ridiculous.”

“Do you have a tail too?” he reaches for the source of the sound he hears and Baze grumbles in the old language but he doesn’t stop him from sliding his hand down the length of the bushy tail. “It’s so soft.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“Well I could,” he says and devotes both hands to touching the new parts of Baze. They’re a unique tactile sensation and judging by how he shoves his head into Chirrut’s hand Baze agrees. “Does it feel nice?”

“They’re damn itchy,” he groans and Chirrut abandons the swishy tail for now to scratch Baze’s strange, fuzzy ears. There’s skin there, buried beneath all of the fur and Baze’s usual hair but they don’t feel like they go anywhere.

“Can you hear out of them?”

“That would be useful.”

He wants to laugh-of all people to be saddled with a strange, useless mutation it’s funniest that it’s Baze. Baze who lingers behind him in the market and glowers at any passerbys,  Baze who gets excited over blasters, Baze who according to everyone Chirrut has asked looks kind of like a wild man who should be living in the desert. He holds his laughter in somehow even as Baze shoves his head harder into his hands so that he’s almost bent in half, his forehead just a few inches from Chirrut’s collarbone.

“It must be for-“

“I _know_ what it’s for. I _don’t_ know why _I_ got sold it.” 

Chirrut says nothing and continues rubbing his ears until Baze’s hands grab his wrists. His tail lashes like a wild thing behind him, “Enough.”

“Are they sensitive?” he asks but lets go. He runs his hands over Baze’s hair instead. It needs a wash at some point, but so does Chirrut so he doesn’t say so; Baze is vain about his hair, though not about anything else. Having ears and a tail might be another thing, however.

He feels him grunt and presses his lips to the top of his head, “we’ll stay in today.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Then you take the day off.”

Baze huffs and Chirrut knows without him saying so that that’s a no go too. Even if he went alone he would find Baze at his side before midday and be glad for it too. Just sitting in their room, safe, feels better having Baze here where he can reach out and touch him.

“I’ll find a hat or scarf.”

“I’m sure that even with an extra set of ears you’re intimidating,” he breathes. “Terrifying,” he continues and pretends to swoon backwards, the back of his and pressed to his brow.

Baze catches him and kisses where his neck meets his shoulder, “Shut up.”

They get dressed and head out to their usual spot in the marketplace. Cat ears or not, no one bothers to try anything with Baze and if Chirrut occasionally gives him ear rubs well, no one mentions having seen that either.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bully beats up Chirrut and Baze has some Feelings about that

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From my own imagination. Kind of OOC I'm sure but I don't care, I wanted it LOL

Chirrut is fine. He’s bleeding from his nose and his lip is split but he’s fine and sitting on the ground, being tended to by someone who is not Baze. Because Baze’s attention rests elsewhere, on the kid with the bloodied fists and he feels something as he starts towards the kid.

It’s not The Force.

His punch knocks the other child nearly off his feet and then Baze feels the impact in his knuckles all the way up to his shoulder. _Don’t use violence unnecessarily_. He should be a good student. He should stop. But Chirrut is on the ground and it feels necessary. He hears nothing but the sing of his own blood in his ears. The image of Chirrut falling, just as he got to him replays in his mind and robs him of breath and replaces it with anger.

He hits him again. He grabs him by the collar of his shirt so that he doesn’t hit the sand beneath their feet. He raises his fist again and someone grabs it in both of their hands.

“Baze, stop,” Chirrut says, “I’m okay.”

He repeats it until Baze feels the air enter his lungs again and the sounds of the marketplace come back. Everyone is looking at him. The kid he holds onto stares at him with eyes so wide he can see mostly white and Baze lets Chirrut lower his fist. He forces his fingers to uncurl from the other kid’s collar. He lets Chirrut pull him away and hold his head between both of his hands.

“I’m okay.”

He can’t think of anything to say and so he nods instead. He lets Chirrut pull him away and press Baze’s hand to his chest so that he feels the steady beat of his heart.

\--

He shoves his face into the side of Chirrut’s neck with a huff and Chirrut lifts his hand to pat his cheek.

“You’re thinking about that time you beat up that bully for me.”

“How did you know,” he doesn’t _ask_ , because Chirrut knows all kinds of things and is more than happy to tell Baze exactly how he does.

“It makes you angry just to think of it.”

He hums and Chirrut laughs, “You wouldn’t do something like that now.”

“Maybe.”

“You wouldn’t,” he insists, “You know how I know?”

“The Force.”

“Because you’re a good man,” he says and Baze says nothing. He lets Chirrut take his hand and place it on his chest. He feels the steady beat of Chirrut’s heart. “And besides, I wouldn’t let you have all the fun.”

“Shut up,” Baze mutters and Chirrut settles back against his chest and back into meditation.


	3. Request-Why can’t I ever take a bubble bath in peace?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baze tries to have a nice, relaxing bubble bath. TRIES. Modern AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a request from my friend Natia-Rebmik aka Lightbow on here! Check out their fics!

“Hey, dad?” Jyn’s voice comes through the bathroom door in between the sound of waves crashing on the coast, and the smell of lavender. He’s sitting in a bathtub that’s mostly made of bubbles and he has cucumber slices on his eyes. Maximum relaxation. He’d thought at a certain age he’d actually get to experience it.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Mr. Îmwe, is at the door.”

 

He takes a slow breath. Calmness. He needs to be calm, his doctor said. Think your blood pressure, his doctor said. The cucumber splats against the tile of the bath wall and he heaves himself out of the water. “Coming.”

 

When he drags himself to the sitting room their neighbour leans into a chair. Baze’s chair. Jyn’s dog, a traitor, makes himself available for belly rubs at Mr. Îmwe’s feet and Baze hooks his thumb at him to send him to Jyn’s room.

 

“Am I interrupting something?” Mr. Îmwe asks, his face the picture of innocence, “you smell like French lavender.”

 

“What do you need?”

 

 Îmwe’s smiles and leans his chin on his hand. He’s blind, and so he doesn’t see Baze’s scowl but he doesn’t let that stop him from making it. “Oh, nothing important. I just can’t figure out how to get my TV back to cable.”

 

“Jyn, I’ll be right back,” he calls and she employs his typical response of a grunt in reply. He doesn’t bother grabbing a coat considering Îmwe lives in the basement apartment and holds out his arm, “Let’s go.”

 

 Îmwe doesn’t need the arm, but as he’s said more than once he ‘enjoys having a big, strong man leading him’ though Baze never forgets to tell him that he’s just an old, grumpy man. Still, he can’t ignore the warmth of Îmwe’s hand in the crook of his elbow or how closely he walks. This close Baze smells the fresh scent of his cologne and looks him over. His short hair is impeccable, he wears a comfortable but stylish outfit, and his lashes look suspiciously long. He doesn’t have long to contemplate it before Îmwe leads them down the stairs.

 

They make it all of two steps into his apartment before they’re crushed together at the lips and chest, Îmwe’s hands in Baze’s hair keep him close and Baze’s hands anchor themselves to Îmwe’s waist.

 

“Why can’t I ever take a bubble bath in peace?” he rumbles against Îmwe’s lips. Baze sees and feels his smile and shoves every stupid, sappy thought in his head down. Ruined neighbour relations aside Îmwe hasn’t indicated they’re anything other than friends with benefits; not that Baze is about to give that up either.

 

“If you’d just tell your daughter about us we could take one together,” Îmwe says and lifts a handful of Baze’s hair to his nose, “you really were relaxing.”

 

“Trying to. And you haven’t told your kid either,” he replies even as Îmwe tries to distract him with another kiss.

 

“Bodhi doesn’t _live_ with me.”

 

“Good thing.”

 

“ _Very_ good thing,” Îmwe breathes out. He moves his hands to Baze’s ass and squeezes, “you’ve been working out.”

 

He returns the favour, his hands finding Îmwe’s biceps, “packing Jyn’s stuff for college. So have you.”

 

“My classes started up again, I can’t be an out of shape teacher, now can I?” he kisses Baze again then pulls away, “bedroom?”

 

“There a problem with right here?”

 

 Îmwe grins before he slides his hand up past Baze’s shirt and down the back of Baze’s pants, “you’re awfully eager.”

 

“How long do you think switching a TV takes?” he asks and Îmwe switches tack entirely and drops to his knees.

 

“Well I shouldn’t have any problem making this quick, but you’ll owe me one.”

 

“Chirrut.”

 

His hands rest on Baze’s thighs and he can’t see, but he looks up at Baze anyway, “problem?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“You aren’t a very good liar. What?” he asks and Baze sighs. There are better times and places to have this conversation than when Îmwe is about to put his mouth on his dick. But Baze isn’t always great at timing. He runs his hand over Îmwe’s short hair and watches him lean into it, a smile on his lips.

 

“What are we?”

 

“I thought we weren’t putting any labels on anything?”

 

“Forget it. Forget I asked-“

 

 Îmwe rises and brushes off the knees of his pants before he stands up fully. He only comes up to Baze’s nose, and his face is blank, but carefully so. He doesn’t touch Baze, his hands held loosely at his sides.

 

“If you don’t want to see me anymore we could try a blindfold,” he says with a grin that doesn’t reach the rest of his face.

 

“That’s not it,” he shifts and shoves his hands into his pockets.

 

There’s something about Îmwe that unbalances him, that strikes him where he’s weak and rattles every thought and emotion around in his head so that Baze barely knows what way is up or down. He managed to creep in, and now Baze catches himself thinking of him even when he’s out or doing chores. He thinks of him settling down beside him in Baze’s King-sized bed and of making him breakfast in the morning while Îmwe chats his ear off. He thinks of telling Jyn about them.

 

“Then what is it?”

 

“I don’t want you to see other people.”

 

He huffs, “well I can’t exactly see you either.”

 

“Be serious.”

 

“I don’t know what you’re trying to say, Baze,” he says and there’s a frown on his face now that Baze can’t help but keep his eyes on. “Help me out.”

 

“I don’t want you seeing other people. Just me.”

 

“Are you allowed to see other people?”

 

“Why would I-no,” he feels his face heat and he scratches at his beard. He didn’t get through life being so cowardly, but if Îmwe says no then it’s over. He can’t stand the thought.

 

“So I won’t see other people and neither will you. Is that all?”

 

“I’m going to tell Jyn about us.”

 

 Îmwe raises his head and his hands to Baze’s face, “are you asking me to be your boyfriend?”

 

“Not labelling things is for teenagers,” he says and Îmwe kisses him. He pulls away, “that’s what I’m asking.”

 

“I thought you’d never ask,” Chirrut says and pulls him forward, “bedroom?”

 

“Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a request for a fic? Feel free to send me it on tumblr at haku23.tumblr.com !

**Author's Note:**

> People were expecting them to get an actual cat... and yet LOL


End file.
